


Pretty Boy

by draca (wyvernwolf)



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-14
Updated: 2010-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-10 02:53:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvernwolf/pseuds/draca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A punch up was a bloody fantastic way to get the blood pumping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Boy

  
"Well, aren't you the prettiest little thing?"

Gene heard the words behind him but ignored them, more intent on finishing the last of his pint as he waited for his second drink to arrive. He'd had a very dull, very long day and he was tired. All he wanted was another drink before heading off for a long sleep. Preferably with a warm body to keep him company.

"Let go of me!"

At the sound of those words hissed in a much too familiar voice, he groaned. With great reluctance, he turned his head to look behind him and saw Sam very indignantly squaring off with two men who could have easily been mistaken for oversized monkeys they were so hairy.

Rolling his eyes, Gene let out a put upon sigh when he saw Sam say something, the intense expression on his face extremely familiar to Gene. It was the one Sam would get when he was in his pain-in-the-arse-stuffy-lecturing mode. Would that boy never learn to keep his mouth shut?

Gene was very tempted to sit and watch Sam dig himself into deeper trouble when one of the men grabbed Sam's arm making him to nearly drop the glass he was holding. A frown crossed Gene's face. No one but him was allowed to lay a hand on his DI no matter how irritating he was. Quietly pushing his chair back, Gene stood, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to release some of the tension in them before he stalked over to the trio.

Coming to a silent stop behind them, he caught Sam's eye and nearly laughed aloud as he saw the annoyance shining brightly in them. Trust Sam to be more annoyed than afraid of being beaten to a pulp when being confronted by two very large bastards. Sometimes Gene wondered whether his DI had any sense of self-preservation.

He clamped a pair of heavy hands on their shoulders and said, "I'd listen to what he was asking if I were you." And then he did laugh when they jumped in surprise and whirled round to face him.

Any humour disappeared however, when the hairier of the pair recovered enough to look him up and down before sneering, "Clear off, old man. This is between us and pretty boy 'ere."

"Who're you calling a boy!" Sam said in outrage. Gene closed his eyes in despair. Would Sam _never_ learn?

"I'm in a bad mood right now and you tossers really don't want to pick a fight with me," he warned them as he flexed his hands threateningly.

That got an ugly laugh from them both before the first one again dismissed Gene with a wave of his hand. "Toddle on 'ome, gramps. It's past your bedtime."

Sam pushed his way between them and held up a placating hand. "Now look here, I think we can resolve this without resorting to- mpff-" Anything else he was going to say was muffled when Gene's large hand clamped over his mouth.

Ignoring Sam's protest and shoving him behind him, Gene took a step closer to the two men. "Are you hard of hearing, you wankers?" he said his voice low. "I thought I told you to get lost."

A hand on his chest stopped his advance and Gene looked down at it, one eyebrow raised. "And take your grubby hand off my coat. I don't know where it's been," he said as he flicked the hand away.

"You looking for a fight, gramps?" The words were said with a glower and a small shove.

Gene growled. "Touch me again, _nancy boy_, and I'll rip so many holes through you your boyfriend here won't know which one to shove it in. And you can shut it," he added over his shoulder to Sam.

He was about turn and leave when he saw a hairy arm reach out and make a grab for Sam. Gene saw red. Without warning, he grabbed the bastard who'd dared try and touch what was his and hauling him closer, clocked him in the jaw. Hard.

As the shock of the impact reverberated up his arm, Gene couldn't help the maniacal grin that broke across his face. There was nothing like a good old punch up to get the blood pumping and to chase the cobwebs away. And then if he was lucky, maybe Sam would be in the mood for a bit of slap and tickle after.

He spared a passing thought on what he'd say to Rathbone to explain how a supposedly simple prisoner drop-off to London had ended with two senior police officers involved in a fight but was distracted by an incoming fist to his face. All other thoughts outside of how to knock the other bloke into the next county quickly disappeared as he threw himself into the fight; Sam beside him matching him punch for punch.

**

Four hours, a police interrogation and a near stint in the local nick later and Gene's earlier euphoria was fading fast as he sat on the motel room bed and let Sam clean the cuts on his face. In fact, his good mood was taking a steady hammering as he listened to Sam's continuing lecture about how proper behaviour for a senior police officer did not include public brawls. Which was pretty bloody cheeky considering he'd been in the thick of it as well. If Gene remembered correctly, it'd been Sam that'd been using the remains of a barstool as a club.

"Ow," he said when he was rudely brought out of his thoughts when Sam prodded the bruise on his jaw. "Dammit, Gladys, stop poking! That bloody hurt."

"Shut up, Gene," Sam replied with what Gene thought was a sad lack of sympathy. "This is all your fault, you know. I had the situation in hand. You didn't have to charge over like a bull in a china shop. Now look at us. How are we supposed to explain this to Rathbone?" he asked as he waved the police report in the air.

Gene pushed the hand holding the report away and stood up. "Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist, Gladys. Leave Rathbone to me. I'll handle him just like I handled your two admirers."

Sam snorted. "That's a load of bollocks, Gene. It was your _handling_ that got us into this mess in the first place."

"If I hadn't gone over, you wouldn't be here right now but probably be tied up in some grotty room being shagged in both ends."

"Gene!" Sam shot him an appalled look but Gene could see the familiar glint in the brown eyes. He eyed Sam thoughtfully, taking in the restless pacing and the way his hands were jiggling around. A closer look and he could also see the slight bulge in the front of Sam's trousers and the way he kept shooting speculative glances at Gene.

Gene's mouth twitched. For all his scolding, Sam was obviously still riding high from the fight. Gene knew what Sam wanted and needed right now and was more than happy to provide it, but as was usual when it came to his barmy DI, things would go arse about face before they got to the good stuff. Well, Gene would play Sam's little game but only for as long as it suited him to.

"'S true. What did you think they wanted from you, you twat? To have a nice little chit chat over tea and scones?" Gene scoffed as he stretched, sighing in relief when his back popped, before sitting back down.

"I don't know what they wanted since you didn't give me a chance to find out," Sam said as he continued his maddening pacing.

"Don't be an arse, Gladys. Anyone could see what they wanted. The way you were acting, everyone probably thought you wanted the same thing."

"I wasn't acting anything!"

Gene snapped back, "You were behaving like a tart."

"Was not!"

"Tyler, you're prancing around in them tight trousers and waggling your arse at everyone that walks past. Keep dressing up like some rentboy and you'll have all the bum bandits in the area trying to take a poke at you."

"I don't do that!" Sam spluttered in rage.

"Yes, you bloody do," Gene retorted as he unbuttoned his shirt to examine the condition of his chest. Gene knew that it probably wasn't really fair to blame Sam for having a body that could tempt a priest, but needling Sam was too much fun so he ignored the thought and blithely continued. "Trousers tight enough anyone can see that you're wearing naught under them and shirts so thin your nipples are poking right through. Display the meat, Sammy-boy, and you're going to get the dogs sniffing around."

Face growing progressively redder, Sam spat out, "I am not meat. I told them to leave me alone. I asked them politely."

Gene snorted. "And you really think they'd do as they're told because you asked _politely_? Where are you _from_, Sam?"

There was a short silence.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Sam said flatly. He turned away and unbuttoned his own shirt, his movement jerky.

A quick look at the tight set of Sam's shoulders had Gene backing off. The fight had been a good start and now arguing with Sam had got him even further into the mood, but push Sam too far and the big girl would get into one of his moods and Gene'd be nursing a bad case of blue balls. And since he was horny as all hell, he definitely didn't want that.

Intent on playing the game his way now, he waited until he was positive that Sam had turned around to face him again and stretched, casually shrugging his shirt off so it pooled at his feet. When he was sure he had the younger man's attention, he leaned back on the bed and let out a sigh before running his hands over his chest and nipples, taking idle pleasure in the way they hardened under his ghosting touch. A sharp intake of breath from the other man was his reward and he had to look away to hide his knowing smile. Sam was so easy.

Intensely aware of the eyes boring heatedly into him, Gene continued running his hands up and down his body, not bothering to stop the sighs of contentment he was making. He widened his legs and covertly watched as Sam's gaze dropped down to the large bulge tenting his trousers. When the tip of Sam's tongue peeked out to lick his lips, Gene felt a full body shiver go through him. Swallowing back a moan, he reached a now unsteady hand down to toy with the fastenings of his trousers before using a finger to trace his erection.

Leaning up on one elbow, Gene watched from behind hooded eyes as Sam slowly crept closer until he was only a step away.

No matter how many times Gene saw him, he could never get enough. Sam was temptation personified standing there with his legs braced slight apart, jaw clenched, nostrils flared and eyes so dark they looked black in the dim light of the overhead bulb. He hadn't removed his shirt and it hung open, framing his chest and flat stomach, pale skin flushed and quivering slightly. The smattering of darkening bruises across his body only adding to his compelling beauty.

When it looked like Sam was going to just stand there and watch him, Gene gave up trying to be patient and reached out a hand to tug Sam towards him. It pleased him that there was only a bit of resistance before Sam gave in and moved to stand between his legs, the edges of his open shirt gently brushing against Gene's upper body like the touch of gossamer wings. Being the contrary bastard that he was, Sam kept his hands hanging loosely by his sides, even though Gene knew it was killing him to do so.

A short breathless laugh escaped Sam. "Who's being the tart now?"

"Shut it," Gene mumbled as he wrapped his hands around Sam's hips and leaned in to kiss the exposed skin. He smiled as he felt the muscles fluttering beneath his lips. Sam was warm and smelled like beer, sweat and musk. The perfect combination as far as Gene was concerned. Meeting Sam's glazed eyes as he flicked a mischievous look upwards, he licked a broad swath across Sam's stomach ending it with a sharp nip and couldn't stop the laugh from escaping him at Sam's surprised yelp.

Ignoring the heated glare aimed at his head, Gene soothed the abused skin with a soft kiss before proceeding to suck and nibble his way across the soft skin just above Sam's trousers, loving the soft whimpers that fell from Sam's lips. Strong hands wove their way into his hair and he let loose his own moan at the pleasure pain that speared through him when they gently tugged on his hair.

Satisfied with the marks that he'd left across the soft skin before him, Gene moved his attention to the bulge straining beneath the tight black trousers. His mouth watered as he used one hand to map out the hard length and he had to use his other hand to hold Sam still as he shuddered and thrust into his hand. He easily ignored the mumbled, "bastard", that came from above as he busied himself with his prize.

When Gene leaned forward and started mouthing him through his trousers, Sam's legs buckled and it was only the strong arms wrapped around his hips that kept him upright. He sucked in a huge breath that quickly turned into a keening sigh when Gene efficiently undid and pushed his trousers off before engulfing his cock with his mouth in one smooth movement.

"Jesus, Gene," Sam managed to gasp out as he nearly came on the spot from the hot wet feel of Gene's mouth sliding down his aching cock. It was only through sheer will power, and imagining Ray wearing Phyllis' underwear, that he stopped himself from emptying himself down Gene's willing throat.

With a last long suck, Gene let Sam's cock slide out of his mouth with a wet smack. He took a moment to catch his breath and readjust himself in his trousers before returning his attention to the pretty picture that Sam's hard length made jutting proudly out of a nest of light browns curls. Flattening his tongue, he licked the large vein running along the underside of Sam's cock before stopping at the tip and dipping his tongue into the weeping slit. The familiar taste and scent shot straight through him, filling his him and fuelling his hungry ache for the man in his arms.

Sam was nearly delirious from the sensations shooting through him. His entire focus was centred on Gene and the expert way he was playing Sam's body. Sam couldn't catch his breath, reduced to breathing in quick short pants, and his legs felt like jelly. Reciprocating Gene's attentions were out of the question, as he couldn't seem to make his trembling hands do anything other than fist in Gene's hair and try to guide his movements.

"Oh god!" Sam cried out hoarsely when one of Gene's hands found his balls and gently teased and rolled them between long fingers as at the same time he wrapped his mouth around the plush head of Sam's cock and sucked. Sam's fingers involuntarily tightened and Gene grunted in protest at the sharp tug on his scalp.

"Shh..." Gene soothed as he moulded Sam's hips and arse with gentle hands, fondling and kneading the firm cheeks and occasionally dipping a teasing finger into the shadowed cleft between them. By this point, Sam was incapable of speech and reduced to making a continuous litany of moans, gasps and growls.

Sam thrust his hips forward at the same time as he tossed his head back, the tendons on his neck standing out in sharp relief. His chest was heaving as he gasped for breath and rivulets of sweat were making their way down his body. His nerves were on fire and he was almost overloading on the pleasure coursing through him. He wanted more but his brain was incapable of putting the words together.

Nearly choking as Sam unexpectedly pushed forward, Gene used his hands to restrain the smaller man's hips as he pulled away.

"Calm down, you daft sod," he murmured, gently rubbing the protruding hipbones, even as he dragged in his own shuddering breaths. "We've got all night."

A broken whimper was his only response and with a muttered curse Gene dropped his head onto Sam's hip, kissing and mouthing the soft skin there.

"Do you know what you do to me, Sammy? I see you poncing around in those clothes of yours, flaunting yourself for every Tom, Dick and Harry to stare at, and I wanted to punch every single one of them," he said as he kissed his way up and down Sam's straining cock.

"But that's what you want, isn't it, Sammy boy? You like having me fight over you. Gets you all hot and horny, doesn't it?"

Sam growled in protest and tried to pull away but Gene held tight, not letting him go.

"Oh no, my filthy little tart. You're not going anywhere," Gene said. "I've defended your honour, have the bruises to prove it too. So, I think it's time for my reward now, don't you?" With that, he twisted them and somehow managed to turn them so that Sam fell back on the bed with Gene between his legs.

Sam froze for a moment in surprise at the sudden change of position before a mad grin crossed his face and he surged into action.

**

The sun was creeping across the horizon by the time the two of them finally succumbed to the pull of sleep, sprawled naked across the bed in a tangled heap. They were both aching from both the earlier fight and the subsequent escapades in the motel room but it didn't diminish the wide shit-eating grins on their exhausted faces.

Yes, Gene thought as he tried to ease his aching arse into a comfortable position whilst not letting go of the warm body in his arms. A punch up was a bloody fantastic way to get the blood pumping, but give him a good shag any day.

-Fin-

 


End file.
